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2013-12-26 - A Troubling Alliance
Adam is awake. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted to be-- his head is pounding, and he still feels tired, but he is awake. And... whoa. In a really nice bedroom. The teen runs a hand through his spiked hair, looking around, piecing together the last few things he remembers. He flinches-- those memories make no sense, like a nightmare made real. He swings his legs off the bed and settles his feet on the floor. This wasn't Julian's penthouse, or the Academy, so he is understandably wary. His backpack and clothes-- freshly laundered, in the latter case-- sit neatly on a nearby desk. He's wearing pajamas, a bit too large for him. "Where the hell am I?" he muses aloud, rubbing his temples. The door opens and in walks Damian Wayne, the boy is in a blazer and wearing a tie, which he is in the process of loosening as he answers "Wayne Manor," he explains before he looks down at himself and says "Family picture," he explains about the clothes. "Only reason I'd wear this silken garrot," he says yanking the tie off his head and tosses it on a chair. "Crane hit you with some sort of sedative," he lies smoothly before continues. "We brought you here for medical attention." "Hell of a sedative," Adam lifts a brow. "I could have sworn he sent me straight to hell." He scowls, more angry than anything else. "And yeah, I've never had to wear one, but they look ridiculous. And uncomfortable." He replies regarding the tie. Bits and pieces flutter back from the lab. His eyes narrow, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "...wait. Carrie-- she okay? She got gassed..." His head lifts to regard Damian. "And you got shot. I remember. He shot you." "Shot?" Damian frowns. "Oh, it only hit my coat. Carrie, is fine and as annoyingly upbeat as ever," he says with a thin smile as he sits down on one of the chairs. "And yes, Crane is apparently the Scarecrow, one of the lunatics who fights the Batman, he likes to mix a fear toxin in with the other drugs he uses, that would explain the trip to 'hell'," he says with something passing for a sympathetic look to Adam. "I understand it is thoroughly unpleasant." "What an asshole," Adam grumbles, making a mental note to kick this guy's ass later. "That explains the creepy mask he was wearing, I guess." He looks to Damian. "So... let me get this straight-- that was some crazy doctor that puts fear in medicine. He's one of Batman's... I guess, detractors..." Adam rubs his temples again. "Some guy in spandex shows up to kick his ass right as he starts monologuing-- shit, villians actually /do/ that? Seems stupid to me-- and you and your girlfriend? also go to town on this guy instead of bailing like sane people do." He gives Damian a pointed look. Damian nods "An accurate assement of Crane, yes," he says with a corner of his lips rising in a smirk. He listens to the rest commenting as Adam goes "I think they're called rogues, not detractors," a little later. "Yes, apparently they do monologue," a small frown follows. "She's not-" he lets that go for a moment and says. "You were in trouble, we had to help you, we didn't expect the spandex man to show up and save us." "I was good," Adam argues. "I could have bounced pretty fast if I needed to, away from Dr. McCrazy and his strobe lights. You and Carrie had to play ninja on the guy." It had been pretty chaotic, to be fair, but Damian and Carrie's actions looked way too practiced to Adam. "You didn't even look scared, more... annoyed. And she looked... what's the word? Resigned. You've done this before." It's a statement of fact, and delivered with a grin. "You guys also at the Academy? I mean, I haven't met really anyone 'cept Julian and this one chick, but man, things make /sense/ now." "Uh-huh," Damian says about Adam being alright. "Were you listening to the part where I said that guy normally fights /Batman/? I know you're not from Gotham or even the same world as us, but, /Batman/. We needed to do something," he explains. When he's asked about the Avengers Academy he shakes his head. "No, we're not," he says. He doesn't comment on if they've done this before. "We're just friends with Julian, or well Carrie is, I've never met him." Adam tilts his head. "Maybe you should join, then. I'm told it's going to be just /great/." He can't manage to keep the sarcasm out of his tone at the last, he's not looking forward to giving up any freedom or autonomy. He stands up, moving to his backpack. "Hey, where's my crossbow?" he asks, rifling through the bag, relieved the ammo he had taken was still there-- and most of the vials of Newt. He doesn't bother counting them, the number looks about right. "Back in the car," Damian explains. "Thought it was best we didn't bring it inside. My father can be nosy when he is sober, and I didn't want him to worry about what that might be used for," he says. "And what do you use it for? I assume you are some sort of crime fighter, like Julian, one of those Junior Avengers or whatever they're called." Adam snorts. "Yeah. Crime fighter. Sure." He shrugs. "I guess at some point I will be, but right now, not so much. I was at the Academy for a few days, but I'm pretty sure it was more to keep an eye on me than anything else." He sits back on the bed. "I'll figure it out later, after I find the guys in charge of this 'cure' and end them." Damian nods he leans back against the chair sticking his legs out infront of him, despite the suit he's wearing he's got red kicks on. He rolls his shoudlers. "You seem less than happy about being a crime fighter?" he observes with a little smile. He can relate. "And what do you know about these people? The ones who are behind this drug. If they're dealing with the Scarecrow, then, I can't hold out much hope for their sanity." "Not much," Adam admits. "They've been giving it to medical clinics for free, and the clinics dose any mutant for free as well-- the only cost is, of course, they keep a record of you /being/ a mutant." He settles back, leaning on his hands. "Pretty sure the mob is involved, somehow, because after we started dealing in the clubs-- makes a ton of money, you know? Humans just get high off it-- a girl named Clara joined our group. Found out a few days ago she's actually some mob boss's daughter keeping tabs on the... uh, street distributors." He shrugs, as if saying 'what can you do?'. Adam looks lost in thought. "I don't think the mob is making it though. Clara may have lied to us, but she wouldn't have let Eileen and Ace take it if she knew it was poison. And she's banging Julian now-- I really don't think she's a mutant hater, you know?" Damian listens quietly to what Adam has to say. "So Keller is involved with someone?" is what he draws from it. "In the mob I mean," he tacks on the end of that. The rest of what was said is churned about in Damian's brain a few moments longer before he says. "Anyhow what you're saying makes sense, if their real purpose is to de-power, and presumably poison mutants, then they are raising the capital to do it by selling their drug to normals," he cocks his head to the side, "Actually relatively intelligent business model, with a high level of excess capital..." he shakes his head. "Do you know who Clara's father is? Who he works for? I know that there is at least one dealer at my school with ties to the Falcone family here in Gotham." "Some Irish guy," Adam replies with a shrug. "But other mob kid is dealing?" His brow furrows. "You know, the mobs in NYC haven't been fighting so much lately. They actually seem to be working together to get this stuff out." Damian arches an eyebrow. "Some Irish guy?" he asks with a skeptical little smile. "And how were you going to find these people again?" he asks, well taunts really. Then he nods. "The mobs here work together as well, but that's because the Black Mask took them over." "Not concerned with the mob," Adam rolls his eyes. "I'm more concerned with the labs producing and distributing up the chain." He gives Damian a serious look. "I got an address off one of the clinics for one in the Bronx, and that's where I found the address for Dr. Scarecrow's looney labs. So I think I'm doing pretty good." He muses. "You think maybe he took over the other mobs too, then? Or someone else did? That would explain why they are working together-- Clara's dad is Irish, but she said she was working for the Italians." He snorts. "Because /that/ makes sense." Damian gives Adam a considering look. "Not bad, but we've hit a dead end with Crane. What you need to find is an active lab and then wait until they get their supply then follow the chain upwards," he opines after a second of thought. Then he shakes his head. "Someone may have taken them over, but it wouldn't be the Black Mask, besides according to the paper Intergang is currently fighting the local mobs for control of New York, perhaps this is an alliance of those local mobs against the invader?" he suggests. "And the drug is an easy way for them to raise money for the fight. Either way, the tactic remains the same you need to monitor the people you know about and work up from there. If this Clara's father is involved with the people in charge, then he might make a good first lead to the supplier." "Maybe," Adam replies. "But I don't think the lab was a much of a dead end as you do." He muses. "I may go back." "tt. Why is that?" Damian asks about the lab. "If the Scarecrow has any brains at all he'll burn down the lab and leave. That'd be the smart play." "Because a couple of teenagers went in there and interrupted him?" Adam scoffs. "Really?" He shrugs again. "Besides, adults tend to underestimate kids. That's their one good trait." "There was also the costume guy," Damian says. "I'm pretty sure he's with Batman. Because who else would dress up and fight crime?" "Yeah," Adam shrugs. "But--" he pauses. "Eh. Still worth looking into." He sighs. "Man. I'm just glad I have one of those guns already. Found it up at the other lab. What it was firing though... gives me the creeps. That's /not/ a good thing-- I thought I was the only one who had made a weapon out of--" he cuts himself off sharply. Damian frowns a little considering the idea of looking into the lab once more. He has to admit, compared to the prospect of a long night with Tim, Dick and pretending to be a family it sounded pretty good. "It's a dead end, but if you want, we can go take a second look." That last part though, that gets a lifted eyebrow from Damian and he leans forward elbows on his knees. "A weapon out of Newt?" he asks guessing what else Adam was going to say. "Yeah," Adam admits sheepishly. "Look, it may be a cure, but there's enough creepy super-powered assholes out there that I figured it could also be a pretty good weapon. Where I have been for the past few years hasn't exactly been a safe or pretty place." "It makes sense to use it as a weapon, it levels the playing field," Damian says without censure. Indeed, it's only rational. "You will need to show me how you did it though," why does a rich kid need to know that? "And I can understand the need for protection as well. I have been in rough places myself where that has been necessary." Adam lifts a brow. "Sure." He gets up, rifling through his backpack for a few moments, then tosses Damian a crossbow bolt with a small glass ampuole of newt inlaid in it. "Shatters on impact-- bolt punctures the person, then the newt hits the bloodstream. Power down in roughly sixty seconds." He seems proud of himself. "I'd like to get that timing down some-- that aerosal gun the Scarecrow had seems like a better idea, but I wouldn't know how to go about making one." Damian examines the bolt nodding as he does so. "Sixty seconds can be a lifetime in comabt, literally. I doubt I can re-create Crane's gun, but I can perhaps find away to inject the chemical directly and cut down on the time." He tosses the bolt back to Adam. "So, do we want to take another look at Crane's clinic?" he asks. A knock comes at the door, and Alfred steps in. "Ah. Master Damian. I see your friend--Adam, was it?-- is awake. And Master Dick is looking for you downstairs. There are plans for tonight, young man, if you recall." He looks at Adam. "I'm sure your parents are worried about you. If you haven't, please give them a call, and I will make sure you're cared for until they pick you up." Adam scowls slightly, but nods. "Sure." He flips open his phone and shoots off a text, giving Damian a look. Damian stands when Alfred enters. "Alright," he tells the aging Butler, the tone is casual but there's respect in there too. When Adam gives him a look he nods and pulls out his phone. "Oh hey, what's your number by the way? We should," he searches for the word. "Hang out, or something." Alfred nods, and leaves. Adam rattles off his number to Damian, and puts Damian's in his phone when offered the other boy's. His phone buzzes with a text, and he sighs, shooting off another reply. "God. Clint's gonna kill me." Damian puts away his phone before he asks "Who's Clint?" "My babysitter," Adam responds irritatedly, replying to another text message. "For now. But yeah, he'll be here in a couple hours to pick me up. But yeah. We should hang out. Or go looking for higher up the chain, whatever." He pauses, grabbing his clothes, then smirks to Damian. "Also, tell Carrie I loved her mask. Looks pretty hot on her." Damian nods but doesn't pry. He knows how those family things go. "I should go see what my 'brother' wants from me, but I'll call you soon, see if we can find out more about this Newt business," which counts as hanging out as far as Damian is concerned. Social pursuits are for the lesser men. The remark about Carrie earns a faint smirk as he says "Yes, I'll get right on that," then he's moving to the door. "Anyhow, I'll call you soon," he promises. Adam nods. "Looking forward to it," he says sincerely. He has more than a small impression that Damian can hold his own-- and he knows two can be far more effective than one in these kinds of situations. After Damian leaves, he gets dressed, and waits for Clint.